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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30148143">Five things that never happened to Shannon and one that kinda did</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eponine119/pseuds/eponine119'>eponine119</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lost</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, DHARMA Initiative, Gen, Oceanic Six, past Shannon/Sayid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:54:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30148143</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eponine119/pseuds/eponine119</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What might have been.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Five things that never happened to Shannon and one that kinda did</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Five things that never happened to Shannon and one that kinda did<br/>
by eponine119<br/>
January 30 – February 4, 2021</p><p>1.<br/>
She's thirteen when her parents decide to have a vow renewal ceremony, to celebrate her mother's making it to five years cancer-free. </p><p>At first, Shannon thinks it's the most romantic thing ever, and she's excited that her mom includes her in planning the festivities. “That's the fun of it,” her mom says, giving her a hug that Shannon is definitely too old for. “How many people get to plan their wedding with their daughter?”</p><p>After awhile, though, it just seems super tedious. Dresses, and place cards, and invitations, and planning and so many details. Each of those details is meticulously recorded in a thick binder by the wedding planner. Right now she's talking to the caterer. </p><p>Shannon glances over and sees the wedding planner isn't alone. There's a guy with her, holding the binder and taking notes. He's cute, and not much older than Shannon is. She admires his dark hair and pink cheeks, thinking she's seen him somewhere before.</p><p>Her mom notices her looking. “She's like the Martha Stewart of weddings,” her mom says. “We're lucky to get her. She doesn't usually do renewals.” </p><p>Shannon doesn't like her. She feels like the woman glares at her every time she sees her, and Shannon never did anything to her. Maybe she just doesn't like having daughters helping out. </p><p>She looks back at the wedding planner's assistant. He's looking at her and it feels like a jolt of electricity in her chest. His eyes are bright blue, and when he gives her a crooked smile it somehow looks sarcastic. She smiles back and then looks back down at her plate.</p><p>“Isn't Martha Stewart the Martha Stewart of weddings?” Shannon asks, picking at her cake sample until she's basically destroyed it. </p><p>Her mother just gives her a look. “Don't play with your food.” </p><p>2.</p><p>The backpack sails out of the tent and lands roughly on the sand. Sawyer and Hurley exchange a look, then both turn to see what happens next. </p><p>Shannon emerges, tugging a huge suitcase across the sand. It has wheels, but they do no good. Items spill out from the top where the zipper isn't closed, either in haste or because it's broken. Something made of satin and lace falls to the ground behind her. She stops to pick up the backpack, shoving it over her shoulder. It immediately slides down to her elbow, the weight of it throwing her off balance. She stomps away, as well as anyone can stomp on the beach. </p><p>Sayid comes out of the shelter and stands at the entrance. His hands rest on his hips, and he looks in the direction Shannon has gone. He doesn't say anything, or call to her to bring her back. He lets her go. </p><p>Even after she's disappeared back into the old shelter she used to occupy, Sayid stands there for a long time. </p><p>Sawyer looks at Hurley again and raises his eyebrows. </p><p>“Dude, I think we just witnessed the first island breakup.” </p><p>“Well, well, well. The first one?” Sawyer says, and thinks back as Hurley nods. “What about old Scott and Tracey?” </p><p>“That was Steve; Scott's dead,” Hurley says. Sawyer frowns, but tucks the knowledge away. “Good point though. Second island breakup, I guess.” </p><p>“Poor bastard,” Sawyer says, shaking his head. “Odd couple, though.” </p><p>“I don't know, they kind of made sense,” Hurley says. “Don't think they're going to get back together, though.” </p><p>“Yeah, why's that?” Sawyer asks. </p><p>Hurley shakes his head. “No yelling. When it's really done, there's nothing left to say.” </p><p>Sawyer thinks about it for a moment, then nods and looks at Hurley a little bit differently. Then he claps him on the shoulder. “Maybe you can go cheer her up, Butterball.”</p><p>“Really?” Hurley says, challenging the nickname. </p><p>Sawyer pretends to not realize that. “Yeah, you'd make an odd couple too,” he says. He shrugs. “She'll find somebody to tuck her in at night.” </p><p> </p><p>3.</p><p>“I can watch him,” Shannon offers, when Claire mentions she would go on a hike with Charlie, if she didn't have the baby to look after. Claire looks at her. “No, I can,” Shannon says, raising her chin. “I'm a very good babysitter.” </p><p>Claire looks past her, to where Charlie is sitting by the fire tuning his guitar. Then she looks at Shannon. “You really don't mind?” she asks. </p><p>“Not like I've got anything else to do,” Shannon says, and despite her best intentions, her gaze wanders over toward Sayid's tent. </p><p>“Oh, yeah,” Claire says. “What happened there, anyway?” she asks, lowering her voice. </p><p>Shannon shakes her head, and shrugs. “It just wasn't going to work out,” she says. Claire gives her a long look. “I'm fine,” Shannon says. “It was my choice. Our choice. We're too different, that's all.” </p><p>“Well, if you ever need to talk,” Claire offers, like she understands. </p><p>“Thanks,” Shannon says tightly, but she doesn't want to get into it. She does think it's for the best. Even after Sayid recanted about not believing her when she said she saw Walt, the damage was done. She can't be with a guy like that. Not anymore. Maybe she's just meant to be alone on this island, she thinks. She's never been alone before. There's always been some guy around to do things for her, or pay her way. Maybe it's not all meaningless, this crash, and this damn island. Maybe it's not too late to change. </p><p>“You're sure you don't mind?” Claire asks, thinking about Charlie again. </p><p>“Go on, get out of here,” Shannon says. She glances over at the crib. “He's still asleep, I've got a whole book of word searches. You deserve a break. We'll be just fine.” </p><p>“Come and find me if anything happens,” Claire says in a rush. </p><p>“Of course,” Shannon promises. </p><p>“This is probably a lot easier for mums who have cell phones,” Claire says, leaning over the crib and touching Aaron's cheek. He doesn't stir. She looks at Shannon and smiles. “Thanks.” </p><p>Shannon nods; she doesn't want to make a big deal out of this. Claire practically skips as she heads for Charlie, and Shannon opens the word search book and pulls the cap off her pen with her teeth. </p><p>Several hours later, Shannon sits with her feet stretched out in front of her in Claire's tent. Her toenails are newly painted a dark shade of blue. She wiggles them and thinks again how strange it all is, that life here is so fragile, but her nail polish bottle didn't break in the crash. If they ever get rescued, she'll have to write a letter to OPI and let them know. </p><p>Claire approaches. She's relaxed, and her cheeks are pink from the sun, and she looks happy. Shannon smiles; there's really only one thing to do on boy-girl hikes here, so she's guessing Charlie and Claire took their relationship to the next level. There might be a lot more babysitting for her to do in the future. “How was he?” Claire asks, going immediately to Aaron. </p><p>“He's a good baby,” Shannon replies. </p><p>Claire nods, and smiles at her infant, letting him grab on to one of her fingers in that way babies do, impossibly tight. Then she stops and gives a funny laugh. “Did you paint his nails?” she asks. </p><p>“I couldn't resist,” Shannon confesses. “Those tiny, perfect little nails? Please.” </p><p>“It is pretty cute,” Claire admits. She hauls Aaron out of the crib and holds him up against her shoulder, rocking him slightly. Even if she had a good time with Charlie, she's happy and relieved to be home. “Thanks again,” she says. </p><p>“Any time,” Shannon says, and gathers up her polish and her book. On her way back to her shelter, she passes Charlie, who's headed for Claire. She notices his nails are painted black – though she thinks he uses Sharpie, rather than polish. Maybe sometime she'll have to ask him. </p><p>She slips into her shelter, feeling like she's accomplished something. Not just the nails, but more than that. She did something useful, and it didn't end in disaster. She helped someone else. And maybe she kind of made a friend. Shannon stretches out and reaches for a magazine. It feels good. </p><p>4.</p><p>“Well, this is a nightmare.” Shannon rolls her eyes. “Stuck on a raft with the ex.” </p><p>“We survived a helicopter crash and the freighter exploding,” Sayid points out. “We are all very, very lucky to be alive.” </p><p>“Not to mention the island, like, disappearing,” Hurley adds. </p><p>“Whatever.” Shannon stares out at the endless expanse of ocean. The raft bobs, and she remembers how very much she hates boats, of all kinds. The sun beats down on them and she's already thirsty. </p><p>The next day, on the real rescue boat, which is somehow owned by Desmond's ex girlfriend in the biggest coincidence ever, they gather around the table up on deck. </p><p>“I'm going to say he's mine,” Kate says, rocking Aaron a little bit against her shoulder. </p><p>Shannon waits a second for the others to say something, but their silence is shocking. “I'm sorry, what?” she asks. </p><p>“I'm going to say he's my baby,” Kate repeats, as though it makes perfect sense. </p><p>“No you aren't,” Shannon replies. Kate frowns at her, targeted and a little scary. It makes Shannon want to laugh – like she's going to be afraid of Kate, when they just survived mystery freakin' island? “Claire has a family. There's only one reason why you'd want to lie and pretend Aaron's yours, and that's because you think somehow it'll keep you out of jail.” </p><p>“No,” Kate says, but it's weak. They all totally know that's why. Kate looks at Jack. Of course she does, Shannon thinks. Expecting her boyfriend to save her. </p><p>“We're going to have to lie about what happened on the island,” Jack says. “We need to protect the people that we left behind.” </p><p>“How does that keep them safe?” Shannon cries. “What we need to do is tell everyone who will listen, so we can go back and save them.” </p><p>“It protects them from Charles Widmore. The guy hired a boatload of people to kill all of us. He faked a plane crash. I mean, you think telling him the truth, he's just gonna—he's gonna leave them alone?”  Jack asks. </p><p>“She's kinda right,” Hurley points out. “I don't think we should lie, dude.” </p><p>“Thank you,” Shannon says, and sits back. “We tell them. All of it.” She looks at Kate. “You don't just get to keep someone else's kid.” </p><p>“You think anyone's gonna believe that... believe any of it? They're gonna think you're crazy.” Jack's talking to Hurley, ignoring Shannon. As usual. They all do, except Kate, who's still staring daggers at her. </p><p>“Since when do you have a problem telling lies?” Kate asks Shannon. </p><p>“Since this is about something important. Duh,” she replies. Stubbornness rules out and she looks at Sayid. “You're with us.” </p><p>Sayid thinks for a long moment. Long enough that she thinks he's going to disagree, that it's just going to be her and Hurley, and if it's just the two of them... well, she doesn't think they'll win. No one takes either of them seriously. Hurley because, well, he's Hurley, and her because she's pretty and blond and rich and completely lacking in substance. Or so they think. Up until recently they might have been right. </p><p>“Shannon is right,” Sayid pronounces. “There is no reason for any of this. If you want to say the others... did not survive, that is one thing. But there is no practical reason for anyone to lie about the child.” </p><p>Kate snuggles Aaron a little closer and rocks him. She looks to Jack, outraged and sad at the same time. He meets her eyes, and she puts her head down. Defeated. </p><p>“Sorry,” Hurley murmurs.</p><p>Kate blinks like she's going to cry, but tears never fall. She's dry-eyed. Shannon watches her, feeling some level of satisfaction. Not just because that baby's going to go to a family that will love him, the way he deserves to be. But because she won and Kate lost. It's ugly but true. It makes her feel powerful. For the first time in months, she's gotten something that she wanted. </p><p> </p><p>5.</p><p>“I put in for a transfer,” Shannon says. She looks unhappy and troubled. Juliet steers her toward the kitchen table and pops the top on a diet soda, which she pours into two glasses. </p><p>“Tell me,” she invites. </p><p>“I thought it would be nice. Working with animals. Petting the bunnies all day. Giving water to the birds. Even the damn polar bears,” Shannon says. She drags her fingers through the condensation on the outside of the glass, then meets Juliet's eyes. “I never really cared about animal testing, you know? Mascara, fur coats, whatever. Like, I get why they do it. I just don't want to do it. I can't look them in the eye afterward.” </p><p>“The scientists?” </p><p>“The animals.” Shannon sips her soda. “They shock the bears. No wonder they ran away to our island.” </p><p>Juliet nods, because she knows. She's vaguely relieved Sawyer isn't home for this, though she's happy that Shannon trusts her enough to talk about it. “Where are you transferring to?” </p><p>“Anywhere they'll take me,” she says. “I asked for the school.” </p><p>Juliet nods. “Do you like kids?” Shannon's never struck her as the type who would be patient enough to deal with kids. Never mind that the school is probably another brainwashing, Skinner box experiment in its own right, but Shannon can discover that for herself. </p><p>“Yeah,” Shannon says. “I used to teach ballet.” </p><p>“I love the ballet.” Juliet smiles. </p><p>“You know what they say,” Shannon says ironically. “Those who can't...teach.” She smiles again, wryly. “I wasn't that bad. I'm just too tall. I wanted to go into the business side of it, maybe do choreography. But... it didn't work out.” </p><p>Juliet nods. She understands how that goes. “I'm sure they'll let you transfer. They're pretty invested in keeping people happy.” </p><p>“We'll see.” Shannon shrugs. “I don't have a degree or anything. I sucked in school. I'm not smart like you.” </p><p>“Shannon,” Juliet warns. Being here and having something more meaningful to do than her nails has done wonders for Shannon's self-esteem. But they've also talked about it, and how Juliet understands feeling small and worthless. She looks for something to lighten the mood. “And if they don't, you can always work security with James.” </p><p>Shannon shakes her head. “I'm afraid of guns,” she admits. Then she smiles. “Besides, it's not like I want to ride around all day in a van with Miles.” </p><p>“You like him,” Juliet says, and she can't help smiling. </p><p>Shannon rolls her eyes and shrugs. “He's real, you know?” </p><p>Juliet nods, thinking about James. It's not just being from the same era that makes it feel different, or real. She catches Shannon looking at her, and knows she's about to get teased. “This is nice,” she says, and sips her soda. It reminds her of the conversations she used to have with her sister. It's been a long time since she's had another woman to talk to. Especially about guys. </p><p>Shannon nods her agreement, but she's smiling too. </p><p>+1.</p><p>Miles stops, in the jungle, feeling the chills down his spine and the presence of someone nearby. Someone otherworldly; someone who is no longer alive. Looking down, he sees the ground darkened with dried blood, and then he notices the splatter on the leaves and swears to himself. </p><p>“What do you want?” he calls out. He's alone, it's ninety degrees and ninety percent humidity, and he's covered with goosebumps. </p><p>Then he sees her. She's tall and thin, with blond hair and an impressive bloody wound in her chest. Gunshot, he thinks. Did these people do anything other than shoot and stab each other? </p><p>“Hi,” she says, and manages to make it sound sarcastic.</p><p>“Hi,” he says, and he can also make a greeting sarcastic. “What do you want?” </p><p>“It's weird you can see me, right?” </p><p>“If you think that's weird, you didn't spend much time on this island,” he replies. </p><p>She shrugs. “Enough,” she says, referring to the amount of time spent on the island. “Have you seen a dog?” </p><p>Miles widens his eyes and shakes his head slowly. </p><p>“I was supposed to watch him. Vincent. I feel like if I knew he was okay then maybe... I wouldn't have to be here anymore, you know?” she asks. Then shrugs. “I don't know. It's probably stupid.” </p><p>“It's not stupid,” he says, and shakes his head. </p><p>“But I miss my brother. I thought he'd be here. Like, the only good thing about being shot by some psycho from the tail section. But he's not.” </p><p>Miles takes a breath and thinks for a moment. He's not sure why he cares. “You can go,” he says. She just looks at him with her brown eyes. He always had a thing for brown-eyed blondes. “The dog's fine.” </p><p>“Like I'm supposed to just say 'thanks mister' and go on my way?” she says. </p><p>“Fine,” Miles says and rolls his eyes. He doesn't have time for this. “Nice meetin' ya.” </p><p>“Wait,” she says, and like an idiot, he does. She cocks one hip, stretching out her long, bare legs. “If you do see him, will you send him to me?” </p><p>“The dog?” Miles asks. “Because the dog is alive and --” </p><p>“My brother,” she says. </p><p>She just got done telling him she thought her brother had already moved on without her. He doesn't like to lie to ghosts. It doesn't usually end well. “Done,” he says. “Now I gotta find some grub.” </p><p>“There's a dead boar,” she offers, and inclines her head. “Bout half a mile that way.” </p><p>“Thanks,” he says, and he can smell the barbecue already.</p><p>(End)</p>
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